


in morning light he captivates.

by gatheredfates (seafaringheart)



Series: Prompt Collections [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Fluff, that's all this one-shot is just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24841660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seafaringheart/pseuds/gatheredfates
Summary: & he was the one good thing she strove to keep.a one-shot created from @sagamemes ask prompts on Tumblr 'fifty ways to kiss someone' for my roleplay blog @gilneans!
Relationships: Tess Greymane/Anduin Wrynn
Series: Prompt Collections [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803685
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	in morning light he captivates.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! In the wake of me archiving my old Tess Greymane blog (gilneans) and giving myself a fresh start, I wanted to archive some of my favourite ask prompts for prosperity. This work was created using the prompts 'good morning' and 'to wake yours (the asker's muse) up'. If you like my work, you can also catch me crying over Tess (and Anduin by extension) over on @saltandseas on Twitter or catch me roleplaying my interpretation of Tess on @gilneans. Thanks for reading!

Sunlight streamed in through cotton curtains blowing lazily in the breeze, the smell of sea-salt tangy in the air as it washed in from waves spraying over the cliffs bordering the Great Sea. For once the world felt quiet; the only sound the caw of rambunctious gulls, the distant shipwright tending to the vessels docked for the night and almost-silent footfalls of servants as they passed the bedroom door.

Tess was still unaccustomed to the brightness of Stormwind. Even now the smallest beam of light was enough to pull her from her sleep; to make her curse the temperate winds whose clouds brought rain only in evening storms. Yet this time she did not awake in chambers deep within the keep, a dark curtain drawn to keep out the light, but warm and drowsy in airy surrounds. She woke in a room of white, blue and gold, in a bed that was not her own, and a king at her side.

Unperturbed by the movements of his bedfellow he continued to sleep, the steady rise and fall of his chest complimentary to his countenance blank and peaceful in his slumber. Not a single line of worry dare mark his face, his hair a golden mess haloing his head like a lion’s mane, and his limbs lax in dreamless rest seldom granted to either of them. How youthful he looked — how peaceful in the moments where life did not demand him to be king; where the powers bestowed upon him yielded little in the inkiness of night. More than anything Tess wished to keep him there (When was the last time he permitted himself the rest? To allow himself the comfort of a bed so that he might not wake on his writing desk or strain his eyes against feeble candlelight?) but she more than anyone else understood the weight of a crown — collective fears manifested in one as he guided their fates.

Theirs was the generation accustomed to war, whose bodies wore the scars of conflicts waged before their time. Oftentimes it was subtle — a cane in the corner of the room, a scar upon the shoulder or a mark on the wrist — but he should not have to break her from the catatonia of her memories, and when her legs entwined with his she knew he deserved both rather than one. _❛It makes us appreciate the calm,❜_ she imagined him saying, professing a wisdom older than them both.

It was all too easy for her to shift closer to his side; to let her fingers brush stray hair off his nose and tuck it behind his ear as a form of wakening. His brow furrowed, a mumbled phrase of jumbled words delivered as an answer as his hand reached up to take hold of hers. She could not blame him for trying to snatch a little more rest, even if it was mere moments before azure eyes opened to behold the world and the sight of her. She laughed. Innocence was rare for them — she’d savour every moment, no matter how brief.

Groggy acknowledgement had him reach for her, his other hand cupping her face as his thumb passed over her cheek and he gave a sleepy, lopsided smile. ❝Good morning,❞ he greeted sweetly, and it was without a second thought ( **dangerous,** she knew) she broke the distance to kiss him. She loved him. _She loved him._ It was the purest thing she had ever possessed; the one good thing she strove to keep.

❝Good morning Anduin.❞


End file.
